Pay Attention To Complaints: They Lead To Relationship Breakthroughs

Recently, I wrote about a surprising encounter I had with a man in a restaurant who I first assumed was "crazy" and then, after listening to him, discovered he wasn't crazy at all.

In response, I heard from a psychiatrist who is on my distribution list. Before you think that he was writing to tell me that I was the crazy one (perhaps he secretly was), this psychiatrist is my uncle and my story had reminded him of something he experienced early in his career.

I'm turning this issue over to that psychiatrist, Cliff Wilkerson, because I think there's a valuable lesson in what he experienced. I've bolded a few phrases that relate to a comment I'll make at the end.

Cliff wrote:

(Your story) reminds me of a child in a day school for the cognitively and emotionally impaired where I once consulted. He kept saying, "Matchbook" to his classmates and to his teacher who would respond, "You can't have a matchbook; matches are dangerous." She was growing impatient with the child  because he brought it up incessantly during the day, day after day. She was also frustrated that he sometimes became agitated when she would tell him about the danger of matches.

I found a matchbook and took it into class with me and, sure enough, the child came up to me and said, "Matchbook."

I took out the matchbook and the child's eyes lighted up as he held out his hand. The teacher looked on anxiously as the child took it from my hand. She firmly believed he would take out a match and strike it. Instead he pointed to the cover and said, "Mother."

"Mother?" I asked.

He nodded and handed the matches back to me. "Mother."

I told the teacher that I thought he was trying to tell her something about missing his mother when he said matchbook, that for some reason a matchbook was a transitional object for him. I suggested she give him an empty matchbook to carry in school and, when he mentioned matchbook, realize he was trying to communicate something about his need for his mother and that the matchbook would very likely quiet him.

She did as I suggested and the boy ceased his constant refrain, "Matchbook," except for times when he needed comfort from his teacher.

The end. Thanks for the contribution, Cliff.

Is there a "matchbook" in your life? Is there someone in your life who, like that child, talks about something "incessantly?" Like the teacher, do you get "frustrated" and try to make the complaint go away? After all, why pay attention to a complaining person when there are so many others who don't complain?

Consider that every complaint contains the seed of an unmet need. Like that child, perhaps the complaining person "was trying to communicate something about his need." Perhaps listening to the complaint will produce a breakthrough in the relationship that might not have occurred otherwise.

After all, a person who complains incessantly is like someone knocking on a door, trying to get the attention of those inside and who will keep knocking until the door is opened.

Perhaps it's time to open some doors.  

By the way, Cliff is also an author and has published a memoir called "Beautiful Brown Eyes and Other Stories" and will soon have a second book in circulation.

Do You Want To Know A Secret? Listen

Thanks to the Beatles for giving me the title. Indeed, listening is the "secret." 

Whenever I mediate a conflict or whenever I teach people how to handle conflict, I’m amazed at how easily conflicts could be resolved if people just listened to one another. Instead, we think other people are “crazy” to believe, think, and feel as they do. I assure you: To the people with whom we are in conflict, we are the “crazy” ones.

I was thinking about this because of an interesting encounter with a sane man recently. At first, though, I thought he was "crazy" and I was trying to figure out how to get away from him.

I was enjoying my coffee and newspaper at a neighborhood restaurant when I heard from a table near by, “Excuse me. Do you have the time?”

I glanced to my left. The man who had asked was seated a few tables away and was dressed in a stocking cap pulled down almost to his eyebrows and a dirty flannel shirt over a tee shirt that must have once been white but was now gray and stained. His hands, clutching his paper coffee cup, had apparently not been washed in quite some time. In fact, my impression of the man was that he had not washed anything in quite some time. The man appeared to be about 30 years old, although it was tough to tell through the layers of grime and beard stubble.

I glanced at my watch. “8:04” I said and immediately returned to my newspaper. I was certain this would be followed by an appeal for money and I thought that by avoiding eye contact, I could avoid him.

“Do you believe that my parents never gave me any money for clothes?” he asked to no one in particular.

I didn't look up from my newspaper. I was a little afraid. Should I ignore the man or just get up and walk away? I was debating this in my head, listening to my internal dialogue, when I surprised myself by looking the man directly in the eye and asking, in as nonjudgmental a voice as I could muster, “Why are you telling me this?”

A strange thing happened. The man’s eyes cleared. I don’t know how else to describe this. His eyes had appeared cloudy when I first glanced his way and, when I asked my question, they cleared. He had blue eyes.

“I know there’s nothing you can do about it, “ he said looking directly at me and with a conversational voice, as though I were his friend. “I just can’t believe my parents wrote a check to a charity for $3,000 but they won’t give me any money.”

“What do you need?” I asked, expecting that I would now hear that appeal for money.

“Nothing, “ he said. “I just wanted to tell someone. But I’ll get even when they die. When they stand in front of that Man for judgment, I’ll get even.“

“How do you know?” I asked.

“I just know, “ he said. “I have faith.”

"Good luck, “ I said as I rose to leave the restaurant. “I hope things work out for you.”

“Thanks, “ he said. “And God bless you.” The sincerity in his voice was touching. He spoke as if he really did want God to bless me. He never gave any indication that he wanted me to give him money. And, once I really looked at him and listened to what he said, I never had any thought that he was crazy or dangerous.

What struck me was how sane this man turned out to be when I chose to listen to him rather than to myself.

I remembered when I mediated a conflict between the President of a company and his Chief Financial Officer. To me, they were as "crazy" as that man in the restaurant first appeared. It was obvious that they were saying the same thing only coming at it from different directions. They wouldn't have needed me if they simply listened to each other.

Might this apply to other situations when we just can't understand why others don't think as we do? When we think that others must be "crazy" not to act or believe as we do?

By listening, might conflicts "clear" as quickly as that man's eyes had cleared when I listened to him?    

Turn An Argument Into A Negotiation

If you're ever in a conflict and you can't see a way out, it's probable that you are in the world of wants rather than the world of needs. I maintain that conflict resolution is easy: find out what people need and, if you can/are willing to, give them what they need.

Or, as the Rolling Stones sang, "You can't always get what you want. But if you try sometime, you just might find, you get what you need."

Let me distinguish wants and needs.

If you’re ever arguing and not arriving at an agreement, it’s a good bet you’re in the world of wants. People argue over wants because this world is one of limited resources such as people, money and/or time. In this world, there is a winner and a loser because there’s a limit to how much money, time and people are available. In this world, the person who has the “power” (usually due to authority but sometimes due to who can scream the loudest or pout the longest) will get what he/she wants and the others will be left with whatever is left over. It’s a prescription for dissatisfaction and resentment.

For example, if a couple has only one car and both want it, there will be trouble unless one party gives in to the other. In this case, the person who gives in may be resentful (against such small rocks do marriages crack).

The world of needs, on the other hand, is a world of almost unlimited possibilities. While people will argue in the world of wants, they will negotiate in the world of needs because they perceive that there are multiple ways to get their needs met.

For example, let us heal that couple's relationship by noting that, while both people want the car, neither of them actually needs it. 

If you’re arguing and not getting anywhere, ask the question, “Why is that important to you?” to get at the underlying need. For example asking, "Why do you need the car?" will yield the obvious answer "To get to (somewhere)" and, of course, while there is only one car, there are multiple ways "to get somewhere."

Whatever the conflict is about, if you reach an impasse, simply ask, "Why is that important to you?": "Why is getting that money important to you?" Why is being right so important to you." "Why is arguing important to you?"

The answer will always represent what the person needs. The conversation then shifts to the myriad ways needs might be met versus arguing over whose wants are more important.

Of course, if the person will only be satisfied by getting what he/she wants, that person is in a "take it or leave it position" which is not even worth talking about because you only have two choices: Take it or leave it. And, yes, you may choose to leave the relationship.

Finally, it’s important to remember that the most effective influencers are open to being influenced. While it may be easy to blame the other person, at every moment, you must be willing to admit that it may be you and not the other person who is arguing over what you want versus negotiating over what you really need.

Want To Improve Your Relationships? Don't Take It Personally

You may have heard the advice, "Don't take it personally" when you have been told something about yourself that was hurtful or that surprised you or that you disagreed with.

It's hard not to take it personally. Of course, it's personal, you might think. Wasn't the person speaking personally to me?

Actually, no. In reality, the advice not to take it personally is exactly right because it isn't personal. It's never personal because the feedback is not about you but is about the person giving the feedback. In fact, feedback is information for you about the person giving the feedback and what that person needs from you to improve the relationship with you.

I'm not at all suggesting that you ignore feedback you receive. In fact, I'm suggesting the exact opposite: Pay attention to every bit of feedback you receive because you're going to hear exactly what you must do to mend, improve or enhance a relationship from the perspective of the feedback giver and only from the perspective of the feedback giver. Someone else might love the very behavior for which you are being criticized.

By the way, this also applies to feedback that you love to hear. It's not personal. It's information about what you should keep doing in order to maintain a good relationship with the person who gave you the feedback and only with that person. Someone else might dislike the very behavior for which you have just been praised.

Years ago, I was told, "Everything you do is manipulative." It was so long ago I don't even remember who said it or what the circumstances were, but I do remember being stunned by the comment. I thought about it for days. I still think about it although it was so long ago that the sting is gone.

I had no idea what he meant by the comment and I still don't. I was too embarrassed and ashamed to find out. After all, I want to be authentic and trustworthy, not manipulative and sneaky.

I wish I knew then what I know now. Whatever the person meant by his comment would have been incredibly useful feedback not only to improve my relationship with that person but, perhaps, with all people. But I was so busy taking it personally that I missed the golden opportunity with which I was being presented. I failed to ask the simple question, "What do you mean?"

Here's what I do now with all feedback but especially feedback that initially puts me back on my heels:

1.   1. Pause and take a breath before responding. Say to yourself, "It's not about me."

2.   2. If the feedback is particularly upsetting, buy yourself some time to get centered by simply parroting what you just heard. For example, "So you think that everything I do is manipulative."

3.   3. Ask, "Why do you think that" or "What am I doing that causes you to think that?"  Keep asking the person to clarify until the person tells you exactly what you are saying or doing that has caused him/her to give you the feedback.

4.   4. If you care about the relationship, do what the person has requested of you (unless, of course, it violates some ethical or moral principle). For example, if you're told, "you don't listen," listen. If you're told, "I never hear anything complimentary from you," give compliments. If you're told, "You don't help me clean the house," help. If you're told, "You didn't give me a chance to explain my side of the story," give the person a chance to explain his/her side of the story. Give up the right to be defensive and argumentative in exchange for improving the relationship.

In 1988, a woman named T. Cole-Whittaker wrote a book called, "What You Think Of Me Is None Of My Business." Great title. I would change that title, however, to "What You Think Of Me Is The Most Important Business Of My Life," especially if you are important to me.

It's just that what you think of me isn't personal.